


allium

by arisfocis



Category: Dream SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, i just want ranboo revenge arc ok, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arisfocis/pseuds/arisfocis
Summary: Ranboo will avenge Tommy, one way or another.Even if he dies doing it.
Relationships: Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	allium

Ranboo has a lot of regrets.

_ I regret a lot of things, _ he thinks,  _ but my bond with Tommy is not one of them. _

He tilts his head back, valiantly trying to blink back tears. It’s not some show of passiveness, of stoic masculinity, no — Ranboo desperately,  _ desperately _ , wishes he could cry his fucking heart out. Mourn Tommy as he deserves, mourn Tommy as no one else would mourn him on this goddamned server— 

The sun is setting on his world, and Ranboo is alone.

He’s not  _ totally  _ alone, of course, not in reality. He has Tubbo, and the others, too — Techno, Phil, whoever else. But Ranboo feels more alone now than he ever has in a long time. More confused too, and that’s saying a lot — Ranboo barely fucking remembers what has transpired in the last fucking day because he’s just  _ damned  _ like that, and still he is more sad and lost and confused about Tommy than he has about anything else.

He speaks it aloud, into the night — his fear, his anger, his vengefulness. How he wishes he had done more for Tommy when he was alive, how he wishes the others had, too. Speaks his once-transient regrets into concrete reality, into the warm night air around him. How Tommy’s greatest weaknesses and most cited faults were the very things that  _ made  _ him admirable, how they were the very values that this server was built on.

There is regret, and then there is revenge.

Anger seeps into his words, slowly, slowly, gradually, until that’s all there is. Spite and hatred and bitterness, for those who should have done better and  _ didn’t.  _ Because they saw this world in black and white, because they were too afraid to face their fucking problems. Because they were too cowardly to acknowledge the weaknesses that Tommy brought to light, because they were too self-absorbed and self-obsessed and too self-centered to look past the fact that it was  _ Tommy  _ criticizing them and recognize that it was Tommy criticizing  _ them.  _

He thinks about Tommy. Tommy, dying alone, at the hands of this server’s singular villain, with the people against him until they weren’t. Thinks about Dream laughing as Tommy took his last breaths, surrounded by the greatest fears of his life. Thinks about how he was _abandoned_ in life and then martyred in death, as some sort of twisted, insufficient excuse for an apology. 

_ Sorry we let you die, Tommy! Here’s a fucking shrine in your memory. _

Ranboo snorts, resigned. Sad. 

He thinks about what would have happened if it was him, if he had been in Tommy’s place. They weren’t that different really, even beyond the surface-level similarities. Children ripped from their innocence and mercilessly thrust into a world of war, scapegoated in life and identified as the singular source for all conflict. Trapped with Dream — though in different ways — with no escape to a better reality in sight.

And then he realizes again.  _ I’m centering myself. _

Like a fucking hypocrite.

He’s no better than any of the rest of them.

Ranboo traces a gentle finger down the scars on his cheeks.

He’s projecting onto Tommy — martyring himself, too, in a way. Projecting himself onto a pedestal above the rest of the server like he didn’t ignore Tommy’s plight as well, like he didn’t turn the other cheek because it was too painful to face it head on. Whining like a baby about how no one cared for him, or Tubbo, or Tommy even though every other person on the damn server had suffered too, during the cycles of war and shallow recovery.

_ I hate myself. _

He thinks of Tubbo, of Tommy, of Wilbur — of every last destruction and reconstruction, of shrines and graves and memorials. He wanders around the server, that day. Winds up at Tommy’s house, like he has for the past few days. In remembrance, in self-loathing, in sadness.

_ In memoriam. _

Ranboo stands in front of Tommy’s house. Forces himself not to cry. Thinks about their interactions, thinks about the first time they met. Looks at the flowers he planted and then adds another one — an allium.

From the first time they see each other to the last. A meeting, a bond, a loss. 

Some twisted form of closure.

The allium despawns.

_ The sun is setting again,  _ Ranboo notices, distantly. It’s a pleasant night. Feels unsettling.

Feels  _ wrong. _

There is a warm breath of air, laden with smoke from some faraway fire, and Ranboo dreams for a second of destruction. Dreams of abandoning every ideal he’s worked towards in favor of erasing the realities he’s had to face, of just casting it all aside and starting fresh, like a phoenix rising from the flames. Of destroying his memories in real life even if he can't fully get rid of them in his head.

There are tears burning at the corners of his eyes. 

Ranboo will avenge Tommy, one way or another.

Even if he dies doing it. 

_ Goodbye, Tommy. You were interesting, but—  _ he pauses. _ You were still a friend.  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> brainrot. brainrot, i tell you
> 
> please please please please leave kudos/comments if you can spare the time they mean the entire world to me
> 
> [tumblr](https://arisfocis.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/AR1SFOC1S)


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